How Many Miles Must We March
by floorplanhobo
Summary: "If you could stop getting hurt by Clare Edwards, would you do it? If you could avoid falling in love with her, would you listen to what I have to say? I am your future, and I want to change your past." Three-part fic, Eclare.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Degrassi. The title of this fic belongs to Ben Harper. This fic is inspired by the Ryden fic, _The Years Won't See It (The Way I Want Them To)_, which was written by arctic_grey at livejournal.

**Author's note:** _Three part-fic, not sure how long it will take me to update each part. I'm very busy with life, work, school… but this was too much to write in just a one-shot. Thanks for your patience. Also, some dorky references to previous fanfics of mine in this fic. Wink wink._

_**+ Exactly how much will have to burn, before we will look to the past to learn? +**_

Three.

Clare Edwards has been holding her breath for three seconds, but now she's giggling again, blinking profusely as she offers Eli a defeated smile. Eli laughs, his eyes filled with tenderness and slight mock, and his hand slowly covers hers.

She blushes, shyly sipping on the milkshake they're sharing, and Eli felts how his heart collapses at the sight. He's falling for her, too fast, and he knows it. Yes, Clare agreed to give him space, and yeah, maybe he should wait.

But she makes him want to sing, makes him want to live, and maybe waiting isn't an option anymore.

"Adam looked upset," says Clare worriedly after a few minutes, and Eli busies himself by tracing circles on Clare's hand.

"He'll be fine… I'll talk to him," shrugs Eli, his thumb now grazing Clare's palm.

"We _should _study at some point," notes Clare happily, removing her hand, and their eyes meet. Eli just smiles at her, not being able to even_ smirk_ in Clare's presence, and when Clare reciprocates the smile, he's lost.

He's been fucking lost since the moment they first kissed.

Eli forces himself to glance around while Clare searches through her backpack, and his eyes focus on a young man sitting at the far end. The man is holding a book up to his face, but his eyes are fixed on Eli and Clare.

_He looks familiar,_ Eli thinks, and the man quickly covers his face with the book. Only a mat of messy black hair is visible now, and Eli can't stop staring. The man is wearing dark, skinny jeans, and boots that look eerily similar to the ones Eli is wearing. Eli also sees that the man is wearing a band shirt he doesn't recognize, and he's puzzled.

"What's going on?" asks Clare, and Eli turns to look at her.

"Nothing…" says Eli, clearing his throat. "So… are we studying now?"

**xxxxx**

"_Free Scott Pilgrim_!"

Eli quirks an eyebrow at Adam, who seems embarrassed about his sudden outburst. Adam blushes and continues to browse the comic archive, attracting a few curious looks from some kids in the store.

"That was a little enthusiastic," mocks Eli, serenely pulling out a _Quicksilver _copy from one of the boxes.

"I've been looking for this one for months, _Elijah_," says Adam, sounding hurt. "You know how much I adore Scott Pilgrim."

"You can find that online for_ free,_ Torres," retorts Eli playfully, and Adam scoffs in disdain at his friend's attitude. They pull out more comics, quickly creating a decent-sized pile between them.

The bell announcing a new customer rings, but Eli and Adam stay focused on their comic-book mission. A low, deep voice is heard somewhere within the depths of the store, a voice that Eli has heard before somewhere, and he looks up.

If Eli's not mistaken, it's the same man he saw at The Dot a few days ago.

He's wearing the same clothes, but now a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses cover his eyes. The man is talking to one of the clerks, scratching his chin lazily as he does, and he keeps talking in that low voice of his.

"Are you done?" asks Eli briskly, not knowing why the presence of that stranger bothers him so much.

"No, not-" starts Adam, but Eli grabs the comic books and starts marching off to the register, Adam trailing miserably behind him. Eli throws the novels on the counter, fishing through his pockets to find crumpled bills, and Adam shoves him gently.

"What's with the hurry?" mutters Adam, and another clerk starts checking them out.

"Eli Goldsworthy?"

Eli looks over his shoulder and the young man is standing right behind them. He's slightly taller than Eli, and so much more intimidating-looking.

"Yeah?" asks Eli cautiously. "Who are you?"

"Can we talk?" the man asks.

"I don't know you," snaps Eli, and Adam grabs him by the sleeve.

"You have to pay," says Adam, and Eli hands the bills to the clerk.

"You _do _know me," insists the man as Eli grabs the bags with the comics in them, not bothering to take his change with him.

"Dude, back off," says Adam and the man tries to approach them. Eli sees his face up-close for the first time; there are tired lines around his mouth, a scar on his cheek, and his lips are chapped.

Eli has _no _idea who this man is, but the man certainly seems to know him.

Adam is now the one dragging him away, and there is something about the man's expression of despair that makes Eli feel uneasy, and it's making it harder for Eli to breathe.

They leave the store, and he feels profoundly relieved.

**xxxxx**

He can't sleep.

He keeps thinking about Clare, about how badly he wants to kiss her. She has intoxicated his mind and soul, and he doesn't want to let go of her. This scares him somehow, because they have only kissed once, for a school project, but still.

It's still too powerful.

And Clare knows about Julia, which is certainly a plus, so maybe it's time to take the next step. He hasn't had a _girlfriend_ for so long, so of course it's nerve-racking to think that he's about to venture into that territory again.

_Girlfriend_. Clare Edwards as his girlfriend.

He smiles into the pillow as he thinks of taking her out on dates, of holding hands, of kissing her when she doesn't expect it. And it's this last thought that makes his insides churn, because he has missed having physical contact.

Eli knows that Clare made a vow, yeah, he _fucking _knows that. But that's fine with him; he doesn't want to rush things. But his mind trails off, wondering what Clare's skin feels like, imagining the sounds she makes when she is touched.

Absentmindedly, but surely, Eli's hand brushes the elastic of his boxers, and he slides his hand between the fabric and his skin.

This is wrong, this is _so _wrong. He shouldn't be thinking of Clare like this. But he can't help it, he's infatuated, and he can only think of her and no one else.

"_Fuck,_" he breathes, stroking himself and closing his eyes.

"Stop."

Eli opens his eyes and the shock of hearing the voice makes him fall out of bed, landing with an unceremonious _thud _on a pile of old newspapers. He removes his hand from inside his boxers and looks around, eyes adjusting to the dark.

"Who's there?" he asks in fright, his heart throbbing.

Eli reaches for the lamp in his nightstand, the clutter on it making it hard to do so, and the faint light illuminates part of the room.

"Don't scream." It's the man that has been following Eli, and even if Eli wanted to scream, pure terror has closed his throat.

"I'm here for a reason," continues the man, and he removes his sunglasses. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he looks somewhat defeated. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"How did you-" gasps Eli, slowly standing up. "How did you get in here?"

"It doesn't matter," says the man, shaking his head. "What matters is that you need to listen to me."

"Why should I do that?" asks Eli, painfully aware that he's wearing nothing but boxers. "You are obviously insane."

"So are you," deadpans the man, and Eli stops breathing for a second.

"I'm not," whispers Eli, but the piles of stuff surrounding him betray his statement. The man laughs softly, running a hand through his own hair.

"I forgot that I lived in the land of denial," he chuckles, glancing around the room. "This room will look great once you're done with your hoarding issues."

"Sorry?" asks Eli, confused.

"You really don't know who I am, do you," states the man. "You can call me Elliot. That's what I go by now, anyway."

"You talk to me like you know me," says Eli, feeling frustrated. "I have no idea who the fuck you are."

The man takes a few steps, moving closer to Eli. "You need to listen to me," says Elliot, grabbing Eli by the shoulders. His hands feel cold, like sharp knives piercing through Eli's skin, and everything is blurry.

"Fuck off," snarls Eli.

"You need to stop seeing Clare Edwards," says Elliot desperately. "You must end your friendship with her, abandon all hope to ever being with her. You must."

"What- Why?" blurts Eli, and Elliot relaxes his grip.

Elliot gulps, covering his face with his hands and sighing deeply. When he removes his hands from his face, Eli can only see the face of a wounded man, and it scares him.

"If you could stop getting hurt by Clare Edwards, would you do it?" asks Elliot despairingly. "If you could avoid falling in love with her, would you listen to what I have to say? I am your future, and I want to change your past."

Now Eli sees him clearly, and he wants to throw up. It's like looking into a broken, dirty mirror, and it's too much to stomach, because… no. There's no way…

"We are the same person," says Elliot calmly.

"Is this is some sort of sick joke?" blurts Eli, making up his mind to shout for help. Surely his parents will come right away, and this will be over. "This is not fucking _Fight Club_, all right? Just get out of my room."

"I don't like my life!" protests Elliot loudly. "_Our _life. You need to change what I did wrong, and you need to… God, you just need to _not_ fall in love with Clare."

"Get out!" yells Eli, and Elliot takes two steps back.

"You don't believe me," smirks Elliot. "I knew this would happen."

And the smirk is too similar to Eli's, and the green eyes are just the same, and it's just too much. Eli tries to reach for the baseball bat next to his nightstand, but he feels lightheaded, and suddenly, he sees no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Degrassi. The title of this fic belongs to Ben Harper. This fic is inspired by the Ryden fic, _The Years Won't See It (The Way I Want Them To)_, which was written by arctic_grey at livejournal.

_**A/N:**__ Thanks for your reviews. Next part will be the last part, and a bit longer. So it might take me longer to update. Hope you like Part II. :)  
><em>

_**+ So here we are right back, we can't let the future become our past+**_

Eli shivers, reaching around to pull the covers on him, but his hand only grabs a handful of newspapers.

What the fuck?

He opens his eyes, quickly sitting up, and he places a cold hand on his forehead. He looks around, his head aching tremendously, and sunlight is now illuminating his room. How did he end up on the floor?

"Goddamn it, why are you so _fucking _messy?" growls a voice from inside Eli's bathroom.

And then, Eli remembers. He had hoped it all had been a very, _very_ bad dream. But no, his "future self" is still here, fucking up with his mind and hopes. Eli tries to find the baseball bat he was so intent in getting before he passed out, but it's gone.

"I hid that," says Elliot, walking out of the bathroom as he zips up his jeans. He's not wearing a shirt, and he stretches as he yawns. Eli can see him clearly in the daylight now, and he doesn't know what to think of it.

Elliot is extremely skinny; his ribs are painfully protruding. The jeans he's wearing too low-rise for Eli's taste, and Elliot's hipbones are almost sticking out. The birthmarks that Eli has on his neck… yeah, those are there as well. Eli focuses on Elliot's arms, and notices a mark on the left upper forearm.

A needle mark.

"Do you eat?" asks Eli sarcastically, finding a dirty shirt on his bed. He hastily slips it on, wishing that Elliot would do the same thing. He wants to stop staring at the obvious state of distress his _future body_ is in.

"Every now and then," says Elliot with a sheepish grin. "I see that you're okay with me being here."

"No… not really," says Eli, wrapping his arms around himself. "This is still confusing."

"I don't blame you," sighs Elliot, walking over to Eli's desk. There is a duffle bag on top of it, a bag that doesn't belong to Eli. Elliot looks into it and pulls out a gray shirt, slowly getting dressed as he looks around the room.

Eli waits, wondering what is going to happen next.

"I know you have to meet Clare at the library," says Elliot, turning around to face Eli. "I'll meet you there after you're done."

Elliot has a phone in his hands now, and chuckles miserably.

"No signal, of course," he says, holding up the phone. "I guess I'll just have to wing it."

He doesn't even let Eli answer; he merely grabs his bag and walks over to the door. Elliot's hand is on the doorknob, and he leans his head against the door in silence.

"Close your eyes," says Elliot quietly.

"Why?"

"Don't question it, just do it, Eli."

Eli wants to throw something at him, to tell him to get the fuck out of his life, but he feels too weak to do so.

So he closes his eyes.

When he opens them again, Elliot is gone.

**xxxxxx**

"Eli? Eeeeeeliiii!"

Eli stops daydreaming and focuses on Clare, who is giving him a mischievous look.

"You're not going to understand the French revolution by staring at the ceiling!" mocks Clare, tapping his forehead with her finger.

"Sorry, I… have some stuff going on," mumbles Eli, and Clare clutches his hand.

"Want to talk about it?" asks Clare tenderly.

"Nah… I'll be okay," says Eli reassuringly. "France is consuming my soul! First the French revolution, then I have a French exam on Monday. Clare, it's a Saturday and we're at a library!"

Clare giggles as she closes her book, staring dreamingly into Eli's eyes. He can't look away from those perfect blue eyes of her, and then he looks at Clare's lips, and the sight is too enthralling to ignore.

Who the fuck does Elliot think he is? How dare he ask Eli to stop liking Clare and whatnot?

Whatever Elliot did, or is doing, is most certainly not Clare's fault. It just isn't possible, and the more Eli thinks about it, the more he thinks that this is just a bad joke.

"Who was the comptroller general that first pushed for financial reform?" she asks cheekily, leaning in across the tiny table. Eli moves closer, pushing the last boundaries he has left, and he smirks.

"I don't know," he teases.

"Eli, you're going to fail this test," blushes Clare, and Eli can almost feel the heat radiating from her face.

"Will you stop liking me if I do?" pouts Eli, his nose now brushing Clare's.

"N-no," whispers Clare, and the proximity of her lips is making him feel butterflies in his stomach.

A phone starts ringing out of nowhere, and Clare draws away, looking embarrassed. People are staring at them, and Clare is frantically searching for her phone, her face even redder.

"Sorry, sorry," mutters Clare as she finally gets to the phone. She looks at the screen and presses a button, frowning as she stares at it. The ringtone is gone, but Clare's lips twitch in confusion.

"Who's that?" asks Eli, and Clare shrugs as she places her phone on the table. The phone vibrates like crazy, and then it stops.

"I don't recognize this number," states Clare.

Eli glances to the large window at the end of the aisle, and his heart drops. Elliot is standing by the window, a phone pressed against his ear, and he looks miserable.

"I have to go," says Eli, grabbing his books and shoving them in his backpack. "Thanks for studying with me."

"But-" starts Clare, and Eli kisses her hastily on the cheek.

"See you," says Eli hurriedly, and walks away as fast as he can. His fists are clenched, his jaw is twitching, and he feels incredibly pissed off. He gets out of the library fast, his eyes searching for any sight of Elliot, and there he is.

He's leaning against Morty, his face expressionless as he stares at something in the distance.

"Get in the hearse," snaps Eli.

"I had to," says Elliot, not sounding sorry at all.

"I thought you didn't have signal?" retorts Eli angrily as he unlocks the passenger door for Elliot.

"I don't… I went and bought a cheap phone," says Elliot placidly. "I still remember her number."

"You're a fucking jerk," snarls Eli. "Why did you…? Fuck, I can't believe I grew up to be such an ass!"

"Well, you know who's to blame, and you almost kissed her today," says Elliot acidly as they both take their seats. Eli slams his hands on the steering wheel, his pulse racing, and he glares at Elliot.

"I don't know! I don't know a fucking thing!" he bellows, and Elliot seems unfazed by Eli's behavior. "You keep hinting this stuff, and I have no fucking idea why you want to me to stop liking her!"

Eli heaves, feeling a sense of panic building inside of him, and he has no idea where this came from. He calms down after a couple minutes, and he hears Elliot open a can of soda.

Eli looks at his older self drink from the can, and then Elliot reaches for his duffle bag and pulls out a pill bottle. Eli watches in amazement as Elliot takes two of the pills and swallows them, making a face, and then a curious smile appears on his lips.

"What… what was that for?" asks Eli.

"I'm starving," coughs Elliot, ignoring the question. "Let's go eat. Let's go to that diner we like so much."

Elliot continues to drink the soda in complete and terrifying silence, and Eli starts the engine.

**xxxxxx**

"Are you coming in?"

Eli taps his foot impatiently on the pavement as Elliot stares lovingly at Morty. Elliot runs a hand over Morty's hood, shaking his head as he sighs to himself.

"Yeah…" says Elliot painstakingly. "Just spending some time with my old pal."

Eli raises an eyebrow, surprised by the emotion in Elliot's voice. Sure, he loves Morty, but the way Elliot is looking at the hearse gives him the chills. Elliot finally looks away and follows Eli into the small diner, his hands deep in his pockets.

They find a booth and attract inquisitive looks. After all, they look too much alike. Of course they do… they are the same person, according to Elliot. And yeah, Elliot definitely looks like an older, bitterer version of Eli.

"So, what do you do for a living?" asks Eli after their order is taken.

"I write," says Elliot, drinking deeply from his cup of coffee. "You write. We write."

"That's great," says Eli, feeling pleased. "What kind of writing?"

"You write book reviews for the _New York Times_," says Elliot nonchalantly, picking at the needle mark on his arm. Eli pretends he didn't see it, and goes on a rant instead.

"Really? _New York Times_?" blurts Eli excitedly. "I can't believe… New York… Wow… That is awesome!"

"Pays the bills," says Elliot emotionlessly, and this annoys Eli. Seriously, doesn't he see what this means?

"You sound thrilled," snaps Eli sardonically, and Elliot sits back and glares at him.

"You need to stop talking to Clare," says Elliot. "I'm not here to make chit-chat with you. I just need you to promise me that you will stop being friends with her. That's all I need."

"Now, why would I do that?" asks Eli angrily, ready to fight Elliot to the end, but the waitress comes back with their food and stalls his plan. Elliot thanks the waitress, smiling charmingly at her, and the girl beams as she walks away.

Elliot pulls out his wallet, opening it slowly as he digs for something. He places a photograph on the table, and slides it over to Eli.

Eli takes it and his eyes widen when he looks at the photograph. Elliot has his arms around Fiona Coyne and is kissing her on the cheek, whilst Adam has his arm around Bianca's waist, and he's smiling at the camera. But the image that puzzles him the most is of Clare holding hands with a tall, plaid-wearing guy.

They're standing in front of some building, and they look somewhat happy.

Older, but happy.

"What… what is this?" asks Eli, barely able to breathe.

Elliot is chewing slowly, his eyes now fixed on his plate. Eli continues to look at the photo, and _god, _Clare is wearing a wedding band. A_ fucking_ wedding band. And so is the guy in plaid.

"Clare's married?" gasps Eli. "To that guy?"

"Yup," says Elliot simply, stealing a strip of bacon from Eli's plate. "That's Jake, her former stepbrother."

"What?" blurts Eli, and Elliot starts laughing. "Former step… But…"

"Long story, and you don't really want to know the details," continues Elliot. "But just know that she will pick him over you. Because he's healthy, he's sane. He's not a crazy little fuck like you are."

The words sting Eli, and he feels tears fill up his eyes. So… Clare will leave him. Clare will end up abandoning him somewhere down the road.

"Fiona…" says Eli tentatively; he doesn't want to focus on the pain he's feeling.

"You live with her," says Elliot, dipping a fry in ketchup. "She's your best friend… and she's a lesbian, so no, you're not dating."

"Ah," says Eli, then focusing on Adam and Bianca.

"Weird couple, but they make it work," says Elliot, finally smiling. "Adam's happy, and that's all that matters."

"But Clare still talks to me, then," says Eli, trying to find some hope.

"Yes, she does," says Elliot serenely. "But you will always love her, and you have to struggle with your feelings every day. It's a fucking burden. She fucked you up. She fucked you up big time."

Elliot buries his face in his hands, sighing heavily.

"_She fucked me up_," he breathes.

"What happened?" asks Eli at last. "Why did… why did Clare mess me up so much?"

Elliot looks at Eli between his fingers, his green eyes slightly irritated. "I don't know where to start… and maybe we should talk about this somewhere else."

"We can go to the park," offers Eli.

"No, it's going to rain," says Elliot absentmindedly.

"Um…" Eli looks out the window, the sunshine mocking Elliot's statement. "I doubt it."

"My leg's hurting, I know," insists Elliot. "It always hurt when it's going to rain… ever since I broke it…"

Elliot stops, and smiles at Eli. "Another story for another day. Are you done eating?"

"Yeah," says Eli, although he's barely touched his food. "Where do you want to go?"

Elliot examines him carefully, and the dreamy expression on his face scares Eli a little.

"Urban adventures," says Elliot suddenly, and his eyes brighten. "I know exactly where to go to have our talk."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Degrassi. The title of this fic belongs to Ben Harper. This fic is inspired by the Ryden fic, _The Years Won't See It (The Way I Want Them To)_, which was written by arctic_grey at livejournal.

**Author's note:** _Last part. Thanks for reviewing and commenting on this fic. It means a lot. It's not supposed to be the happiest of fics, but I just started believing in love again, and hopefully that message will come across somehow in this story. Thank you. _

_**+ Won't you tell me , tell me please… how many miles must we march?+ **_

"I have never seen this place!"

Eli looks around in wondered, gasping at the sight of the beautiful, abandoned church. It's getting cloudy, and Elliot draws out an umbrella from his duffle bag.

"Why are we here?" asks Eli, frowning.

"Come here," says Elliot, marching along. He sits on some dirty, crumbling steps, and he pats the spot next to him. Eli sits cautiously, and both of them sit there in silence, listening to the distant thunder.

"We exchanged our first 'I love yous' in here," says Elliot reminiscently. "I was nervous as fuck, and she smiled at me. That smile of hers, you know? It turns your world upside down, and you can't fucking breathe. Everything seems beautiful and all you want to do is kiss her. Kiss her until your lips fall apart."

Elliot stops talking, and starts coughing instead. He coughs uncontrollably for what seems an eternity, his frail body almost breaking with every cough. Eli places a hand on Elliot's back, trying to be somewhat comforting.

"Thanks," gasps Elliot.

"No problem," responds Eli. "Um…"

Elliot is wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and he stares at the sky, squinting as he does.

"I have questions," blurts Eli.

"I have answers," smirks Elliot, his eyes still fixed on the sky.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Um, do you keep in touch with CeCe and Bullfrog?"

"Of course."

"Why do you live with Fiona?"

"Next question."

"Are you single?"

"Yeah."

"Um… where did I go to school?"

"NYU, full scholarship, thanks to a story you got published on _Gothic Tales_."

"Awesome!"

Elliot coughs again, and he shakes his head. "No, Eli. Not awesome."

"But-"

"Next question."

"Why do you go by Elliot now?"

Elliot seems to consider his answer, licking his lips as he finally decides to look at Eli. His green eyes are filled with utter sadness, with hopelessness, and the wind starts blowing, messing their hair.

"I hate Eli Goldsworthy. Everything that name represents, I hate it. I wanted to be someone new."

"Ah." Eli looks at his hands awkwardly, feeling a knot forming in his throat.

"The day of your graduation, Clare asked you to meet with her at The Dot," says Elliot suddenly, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth. "You were excited, you thought that maybe it meant that she had finally dumped Jake."

Eli finds the name "Jake" so foreign, so unfamiliar… but he doesn't say a word.

"She came with a box instead, giving you back all the poems you wrote her, the books you let her borrow," continues Elliot. "And on top of the pile, your headphones."

Elliot's last words make Eli's heart ache terribly, because even if he hasn't gone through what his future self has been through, he knows the significance of that.

Finality.

"She smiled at you as she handed you the box," shrugs Elliot. "And with that smile, your heart turned into stone. All the progress you had made-"

"Progress?" frowns Eli.

"Another story for another day," interjects Elliot, echoing his words at the diner. "But anyway, yeah, that messed you up. You became this cold, distant person. You watched her be happy from afar. And every smile, every email, every Facerange update broke you."

Elliot takes a deep breath, and Eli is shivering. Not because of the cold, not because of the impending rain, but because everything seems so fucked up and inevitable.

"But it sounds to me like… _you_ let Clare affect you this much," says Eli pragmatically. "It's not really her fault."

"Maybe not… but she's your one regret," says Elliot simply. "You could have been a happier person if you hadn't dated her."

"How do you know?" insists Eli.

"I just do, okay?" snaps Elliot. "And I want you to change my future. That's why I'm here. I don't want to be this person anymore."

"Fuck you," says Eli angrily, standing up.

Elliot has another coughing fit, but this time it takes him longer to recover. He's wheezing, gasping for air, and his cheeks are slightly blue. Eli kneels next to him, trying to do something, anything, but Elliot shoves him away.

"Leave…" gasps Elliot. "Just…"

Elliot heaves, placing a hand on his chest, and he tries to regain his composure. There are tears running down his cheeks, but he doesn't wipe them away. He just sits there, seemingly broken, and then he starts laughing.

"Sorry," he says, chuckling.

"You're crazy," says Eli in horror.

"I thought we had already settled that." Elliot picks at the needle mark on his arm, and Eli stares unapologetically.

"I'm dying," deadpans Elliot.

**xxxxxx**

"When you're depressed, cells reproduce faster," says Elliot as they watch the raindrops hit Morty's windshield. "It's a fact. I was already feeling sick, but I was too busy hating life to do something about it. The moment I went to the doctor… yeah."

It's pouring, and Eli wipes his eyes as they continue to listen to the rain. They're barely paying attention to the radio, and Elliot swallows two more pills.

"Clare didn't cause our cancer," says Eli serenely.

"I know that," says Elliot. "I know, _I know_."

Elliot turns the radio off, and he pats Eli on the shoulder.

"Nobody in the future knows I'm sick," says Elliot. "Except Fiona. She's pretty good at taking care of me."

"Why haven't you told people?" asks Eli in disbelief.

"You know how we are," winks Elliot. "We keep stuff to ourselves."

Elliot starts humming, tapping his fingers on the dashboard, and the sigh that escapes his lips is one of defeat.

"Clare caused all this sorrow," says Elliot. "I don't want it anymore. But it's too late to let go now."

"This is selfish," says Eli deprecatingly.

"But it could save our life," asserts Elliot. "And for the first time in your life, I want you to do something selfish. It won't hurt anybody. It will hurt at first, of course, but nothing like it would hurt if you date her. She will hurt too, but she will be okay. You will both move on."

"But I love her," mutters Eli.

"You don't love her yet," scoffs Elliot. "You just think you do. Trust me… I know. This is still possible, and… please. Please, Eli."

Eli feels the despair in his blood, the ache for Clare's kisses, the pain of not being able to be with her. It's already hurting him, killing him, destroying him. And they're not even dating yet.

"Don't go looking for her at the library on Monday," pleads Elliot. "That's all I ask. Go take your French exam and meet her afterwards. Tell her that you're failing, and that you need to focus on school. That you can't hang out anymore."

Eli sits back, staring at the cracks on Morty's ceiling, feeling how the leather shifts underneath his weight. Eli sighs, his lips trembling every time he attempts to speak, and his future is _literally_ waiting.

"We will be okay," says Elliot reassuringly.

"Okay…" Eli nods. "Okay."

**xxxxxx**

"Will I ever see you again?" asks Eli as they stand in the middle of the railroad tracks. The rain is falling on them, drenching their clothes and hair, and Elliot's gray t-shirt is clinging on to his skinny frame.

"Hopefully not," smiles Elliot sadly, covering his mouth with a handkerchief as he coughs yet again. "This version of me will disappear on Monday."

"Yeah," says Eli, lowering his head.

"Hey," says Elliot softly. "This is for the best."

Elliot tentatively puts his arms around Eli, and the younger boy hugs him back, the whole experience feeling tremendously weird. Elliot feels strangely warm, and Eli closes his eyes as he pulls the man closer to him.

"You need to go now," chuckles Elliot, and Eli lets go.

Eli steps off the tracks, and Elliot holds on to his duffle bag, waving at him. A train is heard in the distance, and Eli squints in the rain as he tries to see in which direction the train is coming.

"Eli!" yells Elliot as the train gets closer.

"Yes?" shouts Eli, the whistle growing louder.

"Thanks!" grins Elliot. "Now close your eyes!"

The train is getting closer, closer, and it's going to hit Elliot any second. Eli covers his face with his hands, waiting for the sound of metal hitting skin, of Elliot screaming, of brakes being applied.

But the train goes on, and there is no sight of Elliot.

**xxxxxx**

He feels empty.

Ever since Elliot left, his life seems vacant, without purpose. But he grits his teeth as he enters the school, his phone feeling hot and heavy in his pocket.

Eli has ignored Clare's texts, calls, everything. There is a dull pain present in his heart, but Elliot said this sensation would be normal. Eli's just sixteen after all, so yes, he'll move on.

He walks by the library, and he sees Clare looking at some books.

And Eli's heart is beating like crazy, a stupid smile appearing on his lips at the sight of the beautiful blue-eyed girl. Clare seems jumpy about something, and she keeps looking everywhere, fear in her delicate features.

But Eli can't stay and watch, he needs to go.

He walks away, breathing deeply, trying to erase any thoughts of Clare. He needs to focus on his French exam, he needs to focus on school… he needs to focus on not dying.

"_We exchanged our first "I love yous" in here," says Elliot reminiscently. "I was nervous as fuck, and she smiled at me. That smile of hers, you know? It turns your world upside down, and you can't fucking breathe. Everything seems beautiful and all you want to do is kiss her. Kiss her until your lips fall apart." _

And Eli realizes something.

He wants to feel that way about Clare. He wants to fall in love with her; he wants to feel all those emotions Elliot felt so resentful about. He wants his heart to break, he wants his heart to feel. He wants to love until it hurts, he wants to love even if it kills him.

That's what is important about living; not having second thoughts, having no regrets.

He turns around and walks to the library, decided and stubborn, and Clare looks away from the bookshelves to lock eyes with him.

"You're alive," says Clare, sounding hurt, but she has no time to say anything else. Eli wraps his arms around her, and Clare holds her breath as Eli leans in to kiss her.

Clare's lips are soft and full of life, the kiss sends electric currents through Eli's skin, and he pulls her closer to him. It's a frenzied clash of lips; it's a kiss full of forbidden, naive lust and want. He wants her more than anything, and he will not give her up, ever.

Eli pulls away slowly; his breath still mixed with Clare's, and the girl looks like she was just hit by a truck.

"I have to go," says Eli, pressing his forehead against Clare's. "I have a French exam."

"I think you just passed it," says Clare breathlessly.

Eli smirks at her before giving her another quick kiss, and he leaves, happiness radiating from him. He doesn't regret breaking his promise to Elliot; being with Clare is worth it.

And maybe this time things will be different.


End file.
